The Desperate Breakout

The port had long since been burned to ruins, and the Kingdom of Suomi's army had pitched its tents.

The three kings—Casimir of the Piaster Kingdom, Snellman of the Kingdom of Suomi, and Kaustov of Sverige—sat around a bonfire to ward off the early winter chill. The dancing flames cast their varied expressions into relief.

Casimir spoke first, his tone impatient. "Your Majesties, the Rhine Alliance has collapsed. We can see their soldiers' faces turning ashen after one defeat after another, and their food supplies are nearly exhausted!"

"What are we waiting for? Let's combine our forces and launch an all-out assault at once. We'll storm their camp!"

"If we crush the Rhine Alliance's army and capture or kill Rudolf before the Wesen Army arrives, the war will be over!"

His voice was urgent, seemingly full of eagerness to bring the war to a swift end, but it still betrayed a trace of fear of the Duchy of Weissen's army.

"Storm the camp?" Snellman gave a coarse, mocking snort and leaned forward slightly, his burly frame radiating absolute confidence in his own strength. "Your Majesty Casimir, no one can stop your Winged Hussars charging across open plains except our Bear Cavalry. But if you send them against a camp protected by deep trenches and high ramparts, your hard-won elite troops will bleed for nothing!"

"Nor are our warriors of the snow forests meant to be wasted against wooden palisades!"

He struck his thick breastplate and pointed toward the Rhine camp, his expression stern. "The sensible thing is to keep them surrounded and starve them out. Meanwhile, I'll pull out the troublesome thorn in our side—Hawthorn Village."

"The Mainz Army is entrenched there. Leave them to me. Once I've dealt with Hawthorn Village, I'll join His Highness Kaustov in taking care